Eugene Weekly : Culture : 03.25.04

Planning for the Future
A Visual Arts Center for Eugene.
BY SYLVIE PEDERSEN

New public buildings begin with architects competing for their designs to be chosen, but the public is seldom involved in any part of the selection process. For that matter, many of us are unsure about what designing buildings itself entails. "DIVA 2010: A Visual Arts Center for Eugene" at DIVA offers visitors a unique glimpse into how architects work by displaying the designs of 16 UO senior and graduate students for a Visual Arts Center many hope will be built in downtown Eugene in the coming years. This is an opportunity for the public to consider what final form such an art center would take.

The designs — elaborate projects the result of six months of intense work — are also unusual because UO instructor, architect Otto Poticha, took a realistic approach in his studio class.

To begin with, the students worked on a real project. The DIVA board, with Larry Fong, UO Museum of Art associate director, compiled the building's specific requirements and designated the site as the so-called butterfly lot between 8th and 7th at Oak.

Within those parameters, students were free to make such decisions as the number of stories, how to address environmental and urban planning concerns, how to balance site, building and what the space should feel like. During first term, they researched precedents and generated their leading concept about the building through drawings and models.

"Our project has helped DIVA think better about what it wants to be," Poticha noted. "It's very clear to us that it should be a visual arts center – a hands-on venue – and not a museum."

Entirely novel was the collaboration between Poticha's students and five of Janice Rutherford's graduate students from Arts Administration, who acted as consultants throughout the design process. They told the architecture students how an art center would be run. During weekly meetings, they made suggestions about adjacency issues such as connecting offices with exhibit preparation spaces. They provided practical information on hanging art. They discussed furnishings for particular spaces.

In turn, the arts admin. students "learned a tremendous amount about what architects do, and that architecture is also art," Poticha said. "It was a great exposure for both groups. Everyone benefited."

During second term, Poticha required students to refine their projects. "They would have to build into their schemes the parts they never get to in one-term projects: the refinement phase," Poticha said. "They had a review with me every Monday night on a specific topic: building codes, structure, mechanical systems like HVAC, natural lighting and illuminations, plumbing. …This is very unusual at this school and probably in other schools too. The goal was to not fight with these elements but to embrace them so they'd help mold the spaces and refine the design."

Visitors should be prepared to spend plenty of time, as each presentation involves many drawings, which represent different design aspects. It isn't easy for nonprofessionals to synthesize a lot of information in what may be unfamiliar forms. Future architecture exhibit organizers should be aware that most visitors would appreciate written guidelines.

Statements of purpose should spell out goals and leading concepts. What solutions were favored to integrate the building to its urban environment? What construction materials and interior finish will be used? (Think of twin towers, one sheathed in glass, the other massive concrete: these buildings have little in common save shape.) How is a particular inside feel to be achieved? One visitor suggested that a single panel showing the various site plans side by side in a unified format would have provided a helpful overview for purpose of comparison.

The drawings and models tell much but not all. Knowing an architect's intentions is useful to interpret and evaluate her/his design. Architecture is primarily a functional art, meant not merely to be seen but to be lived in. Future users must be given every possible mean to evaluate that crucial dimension.

In this respect, student architect Peter Jurzik's statement proved useful, although I missed more detailed explanations. The sophisticated way in which his gallery ceilings provide natural light merits specific attention and explication. Julie Rowse's statement succeeded in evoking what it would be like for people to use the center, which brought it to life. Her description of construction materials also made it easier to visualize the building. Brian Hoeft and Keith Simon also provided useful indications of materials.

Computer-generated drawings figure prominently, although some of the young architects opted for purely hand-drawn designs while others used both. I don't prefer one over the other, but computer-generated images appeared best and clearest when the designers avoided useless effects. One may compare, for instance, Marzban Irani's clean perspectives with Seth Bradshaw's images cluttered with superfluous tonal effects. Similarly, drawings printed on busy backgrounds lost clarity.

Ultimately, a building's interior matters far more than its exterior, which is not to say we should ignore what a building looks like. Most exhibited designs are based on conventional parallelepiped forms little relieved by superficial variations. Sheer façades, flat roofs or roofs that slope inwards (never mind our rainy climate) — will we ever be cured of Bauhaus? I'm not faulting the students. They try their best within transmitted orthodoxies. Irani provides variety in the size of his blocks and cubes. Elizabeth Holloway largely eschews a boxy look by creating a step effect from level to level and through irregularly angled walls.

Among the most visually interesting designs, Hoeft's guiding wall, curvilinear atrium with ample light and well-integrated garden were notable. Rowse's design consists of a dome rising over a flat plenum. She also created a children's sculpture garden adjacent to the children's gallery and classroom. Dustin White followed the structural grid on the street sides and balanced it with a curvy, sculptural façade on the garden side.

Two schools of thought exist on how tall a building to create. Some deduced a new building should keep a low profile to blend in with its surroundings. Others perceive a need to increase density, but even so no design exceeds four stories (five if one counts Rowse's mezzanines) and most stop at three.

Regarding interior spaces, Jody Bell went for "one large open room that can be divided up by a series of movable walls." Many designs emphasize natural light. Indeed, natural light and airiness are called for, but so is a feeling of warmth and coziness for our long Northwest winters. For me this means no bare-concrete interior walls such as are visible on some of the drawings.

This show succeeds in revealing the complexity of the design process for public buildings and provides much food for thought. I highly recommend attending and forming your own opinions.

Diagram, Mechanical. Indicates placement of HVAC (heating, ventilation, air conditioning), electrical system and plumbing.

Elevation. Shows front, rear and sides of building without use of perspective.

Floor Plan. Shows placement of interior walls, dimensions and locations of rooms, doors, windows, stairways, etc.

Reflected Ceiling Plan. Shows duct work, structure and lighting on ceiling. What you see when looking up.

Section. Cross-section or vertical slice of the building; specifies structure, lighting, insulation, mechanical, flooring and roofing details.

High Humor
Skewering McCarthy and NBC on the 23rd floor.
BY KAUKAB JHUMRA SMITH

What does Neil Simon have in common with Jerry Springer? He recognizes that to make a profit from television, one must "give the people shit."

Springer, of course, has been providing people with shit since his TV show debuted in 1991. Simon, on the other hand, shows in his play Laughter on the 23^rd Floor how a TV variety program would rather appear too shrewd for the American public — and slowly bleed to death — than churn out popular but meaningless gunk.

Set in the 1950s, Laughter will leave you in stitches even as you make mental comparisons between the paranoia of the McCarthyite era and our current political atmosphere. Set entirely in a high-rise office, Simon's quick-witted script is done full justice by an energized comic cast at the Actors Cabaret.

Between bites of bagels and onion rolls, seven comedy writers for a popular weekend broadcast share their discomfort over McCarthy's dealings while trying to one-up each other for the next big joke. To their credit, the actors make each character as distinct and colorful as the baubles on a charm bracelet.

And though they work together like a charm, the writers often clash in their differences too. They include immigrants from Russia (Achilles Massahos) and Ireland (Don Aday), a Jewish hypochondriac (Benjamin Newman), a pregnant woman (Shannon Fabry), a levelheaded "genius boy" (Earl Ruttencutter), an eager newbie (David Thaler), and an out of luck guy (Frank Muhr). Somehow through their dysfunctional harmony they manage to string together an hour and half of great jokes every Saturday night.

The front man for the writers' talent is Max Prince (Patrick Torelle), a drunk, drugged out star with a barrel shaped body and manic energy. Torelle is great as a short frantic dynamo puffing away on a cigar in his underpants and socks. Despite his Italian Mafioso look, Max has a heart of gold. His red-faced tirades are more of a threat to his office walls than to his beloved staff.

What makes Max so angry is NBC, the show's profit-obsessed network, which wants to cut his budget and air time,
pre-approve his scripts, and dumb the show down.

The other thing that makes Max very angry is McCarthy. Max wants to use his show to make a political statement defying McCarthy and NBC. But when he suggests a skit showing the Statue of Liberty being subpoenaed by "Senator McNutcake," his writers balk in case they are blacklisted as communists.

More than once, Torelle's near apoplectic fits as Max — "That's how I feel about McCarthy!" as he punches through a wall — remind you of the visceral rage that a simple reference to our president can induce in many people around Eugene these days.

Packed full of zingers, Laughter's fast-paced script is dexterously handled by director Chris Pinto. David Thaler, playing a fresh-faced office newcomer, opens and closes the show with monologues. Though well-rehearsed, Thaler's delivery is green compared to the rest of the veteran cast.

Brette Marie Gentry plays the beatific office secretary Helen with great timing, gently confiding that, you know, she wants to write comedy, too. In one of the play's most electric moments, Benjamin Newman makes a spectacular entrance as Ira Stone, an obnoxious hypochondriac, hacking and coughing in great spasms, shouting medical instructions and moaning himself into a near orgasmic frenzy.

Laughter on the 23^rd Floor is great tonic for a stressful week. It runs at ACE through April 24.

Sweet & Savory
Good enough to eat off the floor.
BY BOBBIE WILLIS

Kelly provides service with a smile at Of Grape and Grain on Oakway.

OF GRAPE & GRAIN
160 Oakway Road., inside Reed & Cross. 344-9463
Willamette & 29th. 686-9463

So — friend Jacquelyn and I head out for lunch hitting Of Grape & Grain Neighborhood Cafe, the one hidden in a lovely, sunny spot at the back of Reed & Cross on Oakway Road.

The hidden-ness of the place is pretty cool. Reed & Cross is such a sparkly, colorful, potpourri-scented labyrinth, you feel like Alice in Wonderland when you happen upon the café. Of Grape & Grain has plenty of seating and is warmly decorated with lots of artwork — original paintings, prints, little doodads and tchotchkes. One side of the café has windows looking out onto the greenhouse-style gardening section of Reed & Cross — the amount of natural light coming through is impressive.

The deli counter displays a variety of fresh salads and sandwich fillings; just past the cashier is another display case full of dessert. For lunch, I order Chicken Caesar Salad ($7.95) and Jacquelyn orders Brie & Tomato Sandwich ($6.95), which comes on a toasted baguette with pesto aioli and a side of potato chips and fruit.

We move along the line and at the register, with all those sweets calling out to us, we decide to order two to share — one Hot Fudge Cake ($2.50), a single-serving, tin-can sized chocolate cake with a hot fudge center, served with whipped cream; and a Raspberry Cordial ($1.50), kind of a cookie bar: crisp, buttery crust topped by a rich, dense chocolate filling spiked with nuts and, as Jacquelyn describes it, "the perfect hint of raspberry."

The one prickly thing about the café's layout is there gets to be a log jam at the order counter and cash register if there are a lot of people waiting, or if things get bogged down at the register: Say the cashier has to pitch in by fixing a fresh pot of coffee; this can hold up those customers paying, which in turn holds up those ordering, which in turn holds up those waiting to order. Of Grape & Grain, though, is not the only eatery contending with such traffic issues (think Broadway Deli downtown).

Anyway, the server preps desserts for us to take to our table while we wait for the entrees. And, well, there is just no way to resist two chocolate desserts when they're sitting there in front of you. We try to be polite, try to make small talk over the two cakes while looking over our shoulders for the entrees, but it's no use. "Oh, let's just taste them," I say. Jacquelyn takes a half-forkful of the Raspberry Cordial and intones, "Oh, my goooosh." I make for the Hot Fudge Cake and nearly forget about the entrees altogether. This cake is lighter and more tender than some of the very dense versions I've tried before, and the middle is like chocolate puddin.' With the whipped cream, it's a most glorious collision of brownie and cake and pudding and chocolate sundae.

The waitress arrives with the entrees, smiling and chiding us, "Dessert first! Uh-oh …" We look a little embarrassed, but only a little — those desserts are worth the breach of etiquette.

Maybe because we dive into the sweets first and are so transported, the savories leave a couple of things to be desired. My Chicken Caesar arrives with plenty of flavor — nice, tangy dressing, generous sprinkling of parmesan and croutons, lots of tender, seasoned chicken breast, a nice hunk of French bread with butter. But, there are more than a couple of wilted, brown-edged greens in the mix, as well as a couple of bites where the dressing is glopped pretty thickly. Jacquelyn enjoys her sandwich, saying the brie is just right — "not too runny" — but that it could have used a little more flavor, maybe a fresher tomato or more oomph in the pesto aioli topping. Nonetheless, we lunch happily, keeping an eye on what's left of those desserts.

When we finish the entrees and revisit the sweets, it is without out any etiquette guilt. At one point when a bite of the Raspberry Cordial's crispy crust snaps, causing a morsel to jump from the plate and fall to the floor, Jacquelyn reaches over (within the 3-second safe time), picks it up, blows it off and pops it into her mouth. "I don't care," she says. "It's that good." Yeah, I'd have done the same — it is that good.

9 am-4 pm M-Sa, noon-4 pm Su. M/V/AE, $-$$.

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